Phase Midnight
by The Freelancer Collaboration
Summary: A collection of M-rated one-shots and drabbles connected to our Project Freelancer Saga series, written by a collaboration of writers. M for language, sex, slash, fluff lemons and all manners of obscenity, a.k.a. the good stuff. So come on in! You know you want to!
1. Valentine's Day with Harper

**(A/N) Hey all, time for the second of our new fics to be unveiled this week – "Phase Midnight" – which was born when I received some one-shots too…adult…to include in our one-shot fic, Interphase, without violating its "T" rating. So from here on out, this'll be where you can find a collection of M-rated one-shots connected to our Project Freelancer Saga series. We'll have a few more updates on here over the next few weeks, and more on our other fics today, so keep an eye out! Starting us off is anna1795, with a very...well, a very interesting little one-shot!**

**Disclaimer: I'd just like to state that each chapter is to be considered solely the work of the individual writer, and these chapters can be considered either canon or AU, depending on the preference of the reader, unless either option is explicitly stated.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Valentine's Day with Harper**

**Lt Ian Harper**

**Written by anna1795**

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"_Love is life, and hate is death. Valentine's Day chocolates should come in a box shaped like a coffin.__"_― Jarod Kintz.

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"Happy Valentine's Day, Jay!" Harper says happily as he flops down into a chair, holding a box of expensive chocolates in his grip. He pushes it over towards Jay, who is face down on the table. Oddly enough, his boyfriend gives a negative grumble and pushes the box back towards him roughly. "What, you don't like chocolate?"

Jay gives an indeterminable grumble, his muscles clenching. Harper cocks his head oddly and stands up again. "Didn't quite hear that," he says smoothly, leaning over Jay's slumped body. "What was that?"

"Don't wanna…" he can barely make out from the mouth pressed up against the table.

"Oh, come on!" Harper complains. "I got these chocolates especially for you! You should at least try them," he says with a smile. Jay sits up rigidly and leans back in his chair, keeping his mouth firmly shut. Harper glares playfully at him.

"Come on, open up," he coos coaxingly, taking a chocolate in his fingers and putting them in front of his boyfriend's face. "Come on…" but Jay turns his head away defiantly, screwing up his face like a small child being fussy with their dinner.

"Jay, open up," Harper says sternly. Jay looked at him and shook his head again. "Don't be difficult." Again, a shake of the head.

With a sigh, Harper puts the chocolate in between his teeth and picks Jay up by the front of his shirt, deftly steering him towards their shared bed and laying him flat on his back. He straddles him determinedly. "Open up, Jay," he orders between the chocolate in his teeth.

Jay stares defiantly at him and bares his teeth. Harper clamps his hands down on his wrists and reaches them over his head intently, fumbling for a pair of cuffs that he knows are at the headboard. He finds them and expertly closes them around Jay's wrists, then he bends down and forces his mouth over the other man's mouth, forcing the chocolate between his lips and into his throat. He pulls back and closes Jay's mouth with his free hands. "Shh….shh…." he says softly while he runs two fingers down the quivering man's throat, making sure that the chocolate goes down without any trouble. "There…that wasn't so bad, was it?" he says gently, sitting back slightly. Jay gives a slight hiss before grinning mischievously.

"Don't know," he grumbles. "Might need a few more to get an accurate taste." Harper gives a wide grin and a wink. This was going to be a good night…


	2. Get in the Shower

**(A/N) Hey guys, time for another update for Phase Midnight, again written by the wonderful anna1795, of whom this fic is her brainchild. Think we should be able to get these chapters up fairly consistently, so keep an eye out for more in the future. The next one should go up on Friday, and will feature the talents of the equally-talented WargishBoromirFan!**

**Enjoy!**

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**Get in the Shower**

**Lt Ian Harper**

**Written by anna1795**

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"_If love is a battlefield then lust is a playground...Meet me on the swings_?" ― Amanda Rose

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Ian's nose flared as soon as the door opened, catching the delicious scents of blood, sweat, dirt, gunpowder, and battle. "Ah, you're back!" he said happily, standing up from his desk and turning around to look at his most prized possession, his greatest achievement. Jason stood there, just out of his armour, still covered in copious amounts of blood and filth. "How did it go?"

"Fine," was the single-worded answer as the dark-haired man moved across the room to the fridge, grabbing a beer.

Ian frowned slightly, following him. "Something wrong?"

"No," Jay said gruffly, taking a gulp of beer and setting the bottle down on the table. Harper grins again, sidling up to him.

"Did you miss me?" he teased, running a few fingers through his lover's filthy hair, and a smile was returned.

"…maybe a little," was the gruff reply before a hand catches his fingers, bringing them close together. "Need you," a hot voice whispered in his ear.

Ian's all too eager to jump at the opportunity, but steadies himself. "AFTER you're clean," he said finally. "Why don't you go and get cleaned up a bi-"

"No." He finds himself against the wall and a body pressed close to him. "I. Want. You. Now," Jay said through gritted teeth, his lips stained with blood. Harper almost melted at the brutal sight, it was so glorious. Still, his lover needed to be cowed.

"You're taking a shower now," Ian said determinedly, grabbing Jay's hands and pulling his feet out from under him to drag him, protesting, to the shower and pulling him in before turning on the water. The warm cascade hitting his body caused Jay to struggle and whine in Ian's grip, growling and trying to pull free before he was forced face-first against the wall, Harper pushing against him to keep him still.

"You're going to be fine," he growled in a soothing voice, somehow being heard over his lover's struggles. He didn't care that he's being soaked as well; it's all in the experience. "We're going to get you nice and clean." It's almost like a mother talking to an unruly son with the way that he's speaking to his loyal pet, but that didn't matter. Love was love, and that meant getting down and dirty…in a manner of speaking. He found a cloth and started rubbing at Jay's body, wiping away the residue of battles and missions, revealing fair skin and broad shoulders.

Ian trapped him with his legs and tore Jason's shirt off to get at the dirt underneath, and Jay proceeds to whip around and try to bite him. "Nu-uh," Ian chuckled, twisting Jay's head gently around so that his nose was flat against the wall and he can't turn. He gained a fistful of hair, gently shushing the man who's now whining underneath him, gasping and spluttering through the water.

"It's all going to be okay," he said gently, wiping at Jay's face with the cloth gently, not wanting to rub it raw. "I'm not going to let you drown…you can trust me, Jay…"

Finally, the water and Jay are both finally free of blood and grime, and he pulled Jason's unresisting body from the shower before wrapping it in a large, thick towel. Ian sat up on the sink and pulled Jay against him, rubbing at his body softly, pulling his head into his chest and drying his hair slowly, relishing in Jay's temporary submissiveness.

"There," he said, tossing the towel away. "Finally done." Jay was almost sparkling in his cleanliness, and Ian could fully appreciate his physique. He wanted it, badly, and he knew that Jason wants the same. He looked down at himself, completely soaked. "Now look what you've done," he mocked him accusingly. "You've made me all wet."

Jay looked guilty, but only for a second before he pulled Ian close to him. "Well, let's fix that, shall we?" Ian gave a short bark of laughter and grinned wolfishly. Battles of any kind did tend to make you horny, after all.


	3. One of These Mornings

**(A/N) Hey guys, time for another one-shot for Phase Midnight, this time written by the amazing WargishBoromirFan, featuring a pretty AU scenario facing South Dakota! I know I said that this'd go up last night, but a table quiz I thought would finish at eleven finished at two in the morning, so bed and sleep were more immediately on my mind! Anyways, we have the one-shot now, ready for your perusal!**

**Enjoy!**

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**One of These Mornings**

**Agent South Dakota**

**Written by WargishBoromirFan**

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"_I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger." ― _J.K. Rowling,_ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_

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South had made the biggest mistake of her life that night.

Many single women would not consider waking up between two strong, intelligent, and - she grudgingly admitted -physically attractive naked men who were very obviously interested an all bad thing, but it wasn't just the hangover that sucked the moisture from her throat. It wasn't just the force of Georgia's arms pulling her closer or the weight of Ark on her back that drove the air from her lungs. She could bury her aching forehead into the warm brown curve of Georgia's shoulder, block out the light, close her eyes, and pretend she knew nothing, but it wouldn't change the sensation of Arkansas's hands against her bare chest, the rising bruises not simply on her own skin - both men's backs and shoulders had been rent by fingernails and that love-bite she could see against Georgia's collarbone from her current position would probably not match up with Ark's dental-work - the shiver of chilled sweat that remained her only layer between either of them, and worst of all, the stickiness that was not entirely blood and sweat pooled between her thighs.

Half the Freelancers on the ship had teased Arkansas and Georgia for their closeness, and from the tangle of their legs, there was little effort to disprove the rumours. Georgia had crooked one knee about Ark's, entangling with the taller man. Arkansas had left his legs slightly spread, open to any upward thrusts of Georgia's hip to rub against the inside of his thighs. There certainly seemed little worry about who was touching what as they slept. And her legs - her body - had been wrapped around both of them, squeezing around Arkansas's knees just as the two men enveloped her.

She couldn't move. She couldn't make a sound. If she woke them... Well, the two men were likely as sluggish from alcohol and spent energy as she was, but Ark was worryingly close to cuddling her from behind, spooning against her, and Georgia had one hand reached all the way to Ark's ass, but the other was in her hair, fingers buried in the tangle as if looking for the best spots to stroke and soothe and pull her in for a kiss. And they were hard. Neither was penetrating, but she could feel them pressed against the insides of her thighs, solid, tumescent, all but dripping...

There were no used condoms in the floor or dangling drunkenly from the edge of a garbage can. There was no sign of a wrapper, opened or not. This was Georgia and Ark's room; the usual mess was in full effect. Tools were scattered across nearly every available horizontal surface besides the one occupied bed. Blueprints competed with York's attempts at "candid photography" for wall space. A heap of standard black undersuits had piled by the door - her own was probably somewhere among them - and the rest of their armour had been flung to the four corners. It almost made her choke back a sob when she saw the half-finished project flagrantly labelled **"Georgia's baby - Do Not Touch**" that had previously occupied the centre of the mess, fallen to a green pauldron triumphant on the workbench. She wasn't sure if the armour piece was hers or Arkansas's, but the unfinished mechanical marvel wasn't the baby she was worried about.

It could be Georgia's. It could be Ark's. There could be nothing to worry about. But if they woke...

They'd been drunk. If she could slither away without waking them, they seemed like they'd probably enjoy each other's company, making her presence here even worse, but she needed to escape the slow kneading of Ark's thumbs, the twitch of Georgia's nose as he buried it deeper into her neck, the stretching legs that indicated at best that the two were settling closer to her in their sleep, as if whatever rough, impulsive, half-remembered urges had driven them to collapse in one bed last night could rise to affection, to - not that word; she couldn't think that word - to something stable as naturally as breathing.

_No. Hell no._ South didn't care if Georgia pulled on her hair, if Ark pinched her nipples, if she could feel them both slide against sensitive places that made her body beg to linger, she had to slip away, and quickly. Hazel eyes slid open as Ark fell into Georgia, but there were those who were early risers and those had early mornings drilled into them. South gathered a drop-cloth about her and decided to come back for the armour later. She picked up the first undersuit in the pile and rushed from the room before ideals or optimism could convince her to stay.

Surely there was a morning-after pill she could bribe, bully, or steal off of someone on the Mother of Invention. Maybe even one that made her forget the reasons she had needed one and how they'd felt, how they'd looked, how they'd sounded, how they'd tasted in the heat of the night. Something that made her not want to know how that morning might have otherwise gone.

She avoided North's eyes when she changed into exercise gear and "went for a run." She didn't tell her brother where she'd been. He probably already knew; he hadn't seemed too worried. South wished she could be so calm about it.

She took a pregnancy test instead. South took the whole pack, but tried to tell herself she didn't need the pill locked away with the other prescriptions, to be handed out only to those who were willing to say anything to one of the doctors, so long as nothing took anyway - even if nothing was likely to take for at least twenty-four hours and might not for up to a week before she could laugh it off as a close call, a drunken misadventure, a threat safely defeated, as she'd defeated anything else thrown in her path.

She waited to retrieve her armour until she was fairly certain that both Ark and Georgia would have left the room, hopefully still nursing hangovers and not in a position to notice anything purple in the mess. She found it stacked outside the door in a fairly neat pile and wasn't sure what to make of the steel rage that burned in her throat, so she didn't talk much once she suited up and met Carolina coming down the hall, pulling out newbies for their next mission.

South ached all day.


	4. Violence Gets Me Going

**(A/N) Hey guys, time for another Phase Midnight chapter, written by the fantastic anna1795 and once more featuring the demonic manipulations of Lt Ian Harper, giving chills to all who read it. At this point, you're probably wondering how he can get more sadistic, right? Well, read on to find out!**

**Enjoy!**

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**Violence Gets Me Going**

**Lt Ian Harper**

**Written by anna1795**

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"_We made love like two smiles torturing a frown. My advice is to put it on the rack, and really stretch out the event." _

― Jarod Kintz, _My love can only occupy one person at a time_

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_Any minute now,_ Ian thought to himself as he sat back in his chair, his feet resting against the end of a twitching bedframe, patiently watching the bound, shirtless man with dark hair thrash about, screaming and crying, waiting with hooded eyes. It must've been torture for this part of Jason to be tied to a bed on his front, no memory of how he'd gotten there, not able to see where his 'enemy' was. Even more so was the blood that was still clearly visible on his hands, that Ian had decided not to clean off, hoping to spur something dark and delicious inside his plaything.

_He's been going at this for almost an hour…kid's got a set of lungs,_ Ian admitted to himself, twisting a knife between his fingers. Finally, Jason slumped against the bed, breathing heavily, still gasping and crying but no longer screaming. Ian smiled to himself. _Showtime_.

He stood up languidly, keeping out of Jason's tired vision as he prowled around the bed. "You were screaming a bit like that when we were out in battle today…but, you know, more laughing," he pointed out lightly, tossing his knife into the air and catching the tip expertly. "All that blood on your hands? Only a fraction of what you tore out of those people today." Beneath him, Jason was breathing raggedly, flinching and whimpering at his words. Harper couldn't help but feel a pulse of heat and passion ignite his veins at the reaction. "It was so lovely, seeing you out there, tearing apart the battlefield. Literally."

His knife flashed out, nicking Jason's shoulder and drawing a small bead of blood. The young man groaned softly in pain. "That little bit, Jay? I'm disappointed," Ian said with a pout. "You can usually take much more than this. You'd be begging for me right about now."

"…not…not that kind of person…" Jason gave a feeble wail. "I don't…don't kill people." Ian couldn't help but laugh as he tangled his hand into Jason's hair and tugged on it, leaning close to his ear.

"Yes, you are. You remember what happened out there today, and just forgot. I'll be happy to remind you, though," he hissed into Jason's ear, causing the younger man to start crying harder. "All those men falling to your gun, and you glocking them in the head to make sure that they stay down…" he started rasping into his captive's ear.

"No…" Jason moaned as the knife cuts across his upper arm, but there's just a hint of less pain in his voice. "Stop…please…"

"Then came the women…the way that you tore that one girl's arm clean out of the socket was particularly gory…and delicious," Ian continued to rasp into Jason's ear, each sentence fragment accompanied by another random cut to his body. Jason twitched and moaned under him, but he could tell already by the way his moans were changing that Jason was being pushed back down, and Jay was starting to bubble up again. "Twisting all those necks, letting the heads start flying, and the children catching them like basketballs…oh, and then the children."

"No…" he heard him hiss. "No…stop now, Ian."

"_Gotcha,_" Ian whispered. "The kids were always the easiest for you. I didn't know that you knew what to do with them besides tie them together and douse them in petrol before setting them alight like Independence Day fireworks, but boy, today was a treat!" he squealed giddily. Under him, Jay began to groan and twist in his bonds. Ian could tell by the way his hands were reaching that he was trying to find him.

"You just told them it was a game…that they'd play and they could all go home. Just toss their parents' heads around for a little while, get them all nice and scarred…" He sighed wistfully as Jay grunted underneath him, desperate to be free. "You certainly know how to get me going, Jay, but I practically creamed myself at the last part."

Jay growled up at him, giving him a dark glare, and Ian knew that he had Jay at the part where there was no escape, no going back. Ian got on top of Jay at that point, straddling his hips from behind and bending over him. The knife starts tracing a crimson line down the centre of Jay's spine, certainly not deep enough to cause any pain. "When you lined all those kids up with their parents' heads in a row, like they'd won a trophy of some kind, and just gunned them down all along that wall…" He pressed into Jay with a smile against his skin, the knife completing its journey from the top of his spine down to his pelvis.

"…fuck me, goddammit," Jay hissed up at him, and Ian smiled triumphantly, tearing off his shirt and throwing the knife so that it landed in a wall.

"Oh, I intend to."


	5. The Talk

**(A/N) Hey all, we're back with another Phase Midnight one-shot for you all! This one was written by the always-fantastic TunelessLyric, and was originally intended as an Interphase one-shot, but I felt that the content might have leaned a little more to the M-rated side of things, and so here we are. We'll hopefully have a few more one-shots coming up soon, so keep an eye out!**

**Enjoy!**

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**The Talk**

**Agent Nevada**

**Written by TunelessLyric**

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"_A doubtful friend is worse than a certain enemy. Let a man be one thing or the other, and we then know how to meet him." _

― Aesop, _Aesop's Fables_

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Nev looked up as Harper walked into the room. She rolled her eyes when he sat right fucking next to her on the bench. The two of them had an entire disused storage room, stripped bare to the walls, barring the solid bench, which was welded to the floor.

Harper called it Hell.

Ark called it the Break Room.

"Ark put you on timeout again?" she asked sweetly, going back to her data-pad.

Rather than answer, the Innie let out a long, overly dramatic sigh and rested his head against the wall with a bump.

"What did Daddy say you did this time?" Nev inquired, actually curious.

Harper didn't even turn to her, just sighed again before replying. "Told me to stop stabbing people with my knitting needles."

With that answer, Nev knew he was looking for her to keep quizzing. The Freelancer wasn't denying it, she hated his guts. So she lapsed into silence, making sure to keep the screen angled away from him.

It took thirteen seconds for Harper to start drumming his fingers on the bench. Another six seconds for him to sigh again. A grand total of forty-two before he broke the silence.

"So what did you do to displease the Lord and Master?"

Nev didn't reply. She turned her data-pad off and set it down at her side, out of the man's reach. Her hands dropped to her lap.

"Ne-vah-dah," crooned Harper, lifting his head off the way to mock-pout at her. "Don't ignore me."

She stifled the urge to squeeze her eyes shut or pick a fight she would start just to lose. God, he _was_ aggravating.

"I know you want me to be bored about as much as I do. Let's face it, it's not a good look for me. Come on, spill."

_Not listening. Not listening._

A finger trailed down her arm lightly, smoothing the wrinkles in the shirt. _Did that shit work on Cal?_ _Uck_.

The finger disappeared. His pout now visible in his voice, Harper went on, "How do you people stand it? The silence? The stillness?"

"With you around, it's never either," commented Nev pointedly.

He harrumphed at that. "So it isn't."

In truth, Nev was here because she was the least vital in the Crimson Sun's roster, and thus could be spared to babysit Harper in his punishment. Plus, no big deal if he snapped and throttled her, right? She was just the expendable defector no one _really_ trusted.

Harper began banging his head against the wall solidly. _Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

Nev cracked an eye open.

"You." _Thump._ "Going." _Thump_. "To." _Thump_. "Make." _Thump_. "Me." _Thump_. "Stop?" _Thump_.

"Why would I do that?" Nev watched with detached interest. Oh, yeah, that looked like a barrel of fucking laughs.

Harper stopped as abruptly has he had begun. "Because you're worried about me? Because you don't want me to flick the switch and–" He broke off to mime strangling someone.

That display succeeded in a raised eyebrow. "Really?"

He pouted again. "Not even a snide comment?"

"You didn't have many brain cells to begin with, Ian. How are you going to stalk Cal into crawling back to you after causing the murder of his girlfriend and his own molestation if you kill the rest of them off by beating your head in?"

Harper clutched his chest. "Ouch. There it is."

Nev rolled her eyes. "You're such a drama queen."

"I had nothing to do with Mich's death. That was all our 'fearless' leader."

"I watched the vid feed, Ian. I saw you pull the gun. If he hadn't, you would've. What would you do if Cal were to get an anonymous tip? You think he'd be willing to fall back into your arms and resume his full-time employment at Fuckbuddies 'R Us?" she went on sarcastically.

"You couldn't do it. It's been recorded now. Ark'd know if you alerted the Freelancers."

Nev turned her head to look at the Innie. "Please. He couldn't find his own asshole if I drew him a diagram," she bluffed confidently. "You scared of Cal coming for you?"

"Please," Ian echoed, sounding just as cocky, "Jay came for me all the time. That was the highlight of his day. He used to beg for me to give it to him."

Well, then. That explained the pinning to the wall thing. The more you know... Nev held up a hand. "Thanks, Ian. I really don't want to know about your fetishes or how you like to be fucked by broken-down men."

"Those were to good old days." Harper closed his eyes and spoke dreamily. "Just Jay and me. He liked it when I showed him who the boss was."

"Too bad he fucking hates your guts."

"Well, yeah." He opened his eyes and peered thoughtfully at Nev. "Makes for good angry sex. Wouldn't mind seeing if that makes him fight a little more in bed…"

"Oh, so you don't just wrap yourself in a cocoon or, fuck if I know, hang from the rafters to sleep?" She didn't like the way he leered at her, but hey, at least he wasn't braining her with the bench.

"I am a human being and _not_ a bat. Or caterpillar about to turn into a butterfly, Nev," whined Harper. "Don't be like that."

"But you are a five-year-old girl. Which Disney Princess is your bed modelled after? Snow White, I bet. Or no, it's Aurora. Is the bedspread bright pink like her dress?"

"Yes and it has those little blue flowers on the sheets." He raised his hands to about shoulder level, rolled them into fists and shook them, bright smile plastered across his face. The very picture of glee.

"That had to be a big hit with Jay. What did he say when he first saw the arrangement? 'So unbearably sexy?' or 'Are we really going to bang in your little sister's bed?'"

"If you must know, it was neither," he replied vaguely.

Nev nodded and closed her eyes again. She fell silent. God, winding him up was entertaining. She absolutely hated every second of life with the Crimson Sun, but moments like these weren't as bad. This was something halfway enjoyable.

Harper shook her shoulder. "I wasn't done, Nevada."

No response, she had gone limp and was easy to shake.

"Haha, funny! Make me bored again!"

Still nothing.

"Nevada, don't you ignore me!"

There was a soft hiss as the door opened. A grunt poked his head in, his eyes betraying his discomfort and wariness. "Nevada, I'm here to relieve you now."

She leaped to her feet, throwing Harper off her shoulder where he'd been holding a finger under her nose to check for breath. As she strode out of the room she waved to the Innie. Aside to the grunt she said, "Be careful."

And then she was free.


	6. House of Three

**(Warg's A/N) I figure we need something at least semi-fluffy, as we deal with a slight delay on the next Phase Two chapter. In honor of our group's second-anniversary awards ceremony, (and the Ark/Georgia/South matchup winning "Best Relationship,") a little old-school AU set back during Phase One after the Covenant invasion, following up on the twist of "One of These Mornings" as to how else that party could have played out. It won't be very long...until there are spoilers.**

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**House of Three**

**Agent South Dakota**

**Written by WargishBoromirFan**

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_"I want to have your abortion._"

\- Marla, _Fight Club._

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"You know I can loop the cameras just as easily in our room; I've isolated us from the main servers for delicate projects before," Ark grumbled as he completed final slices on the in-room electronics. South Dakota was sure he could, but there was no way in hell she could face this where it had started.

"Well, our room ain't exactly in a quiet part of the ship. People might start poking their noses in if we can hear ourselves over the power tools." Georgia shrugged, and his roommate loosed a dry chuckle.

"Don't I know it." Damn it, why did Arkansas have to look so... so... wonderful when he smiled? Not that she'd let it cloud her judgement again; she knew the coldly arrogant, proselytizing bastard that he was quite capable of being, but then he'd slip up and give something like that momentarily unguarded, genuine grin, and she might picture the care and morals lurking under the assiduously deliberate show of strength. She didn't like to think about why Ark kept up the act, even around people like herself who were perfectly aware of exactly how little that posturing counted for in the grand scheme of things. She'd proved her skill and rose faster than him, after all.

"Just do it, sit down, and shut up, Ark," South snapped, not allowing anyone lower on the leaderboard to override her command this time. The hacker gave her a glance dripping with condescending scorn as he logged off, but took a seat next to Georgia, schooling his features quickly back to his usual unreadable neutrality and motioning for her to say what she'd come here to say.

Part of her insisted that this was a bad idea from the first impulse. She should go to North first; her brother would listen and support her and show no agenda other than taking care of his little sister through her troubles. And that was why she had to do this her way, by herself.

If she really wanted to solve the problem alone, there were ways to do it. She didn't have to tell them any more than she had to tell North. It could have been over and done with as quickly as it took her to bribe a medic. Or she could leave. The second option didn't appeal much to her, but neither did the first. Not when part of her could picture Ark knelt down, hands and forehead resting against a small frame as he explained the (fucked up) way the world worked, or Georgia bouncing through the corridors with something little and giggling held above his head as he mimed engine noises, or two other pairs of hands resting over hers, against her abdomen...

She'd make a horrible mother. South was absolutely certain of that, as sure as she was of her brother's aim or Penn's violence. But if Georgia could calm the hell down and Arkansas would pull his head out of his ass and get involved, the kid wouldn't be too badly off with them.

So she'd dragged them both to a rarely-used lecture room or briefing chamber or some such shit - whatever its original purpose had been, it had become Ark's hideout away from home and she'd barged into it, bringing Georgia with her because this wasn't just going to shatter her own peace of mind, so they might as well start with Arkansas's secret spot while they were sharing - and sat them down in the first row of benches, feeling slightly more at ease with a table between her and them, on her feet and ready to run or fight while they were trapped by the desk and below her eye level. She paced one or two quick passes of the front, eyes on them as Georgia fidgeted restlessly and Ark held too still. These were her troops for this mission; she could lead them at least through this briefing.

"I'm pregnant" still felt like a shot to her own gut from the firing squad of their eyes.

"What?" Ark blinked as if he were certain that he'd misheard her. Georgia's mouth hung open, widened brown eyes sidling between the other two as he attempted to reboot his brain.

"That night when we all got drunk after celebrating our losses..." It had been such a stupid party, with the sorriest excuse she'd heard for one, but their fellow newbies, especially North and Georgia, had been so relieved to get them back from the med-bay with no lasting injuries that they'd wanted to celebrate their survival against the senior agents, even if that was the last thing South had wanted to think about that night - that bitch Virginia was still on her shit list just for smiling at her brother, let alone what she'd done out on the floor, as far as South was concerned. But plentiful alcohol hadn't seemed so bad an idea, even if it was poor consolation. After six or ten various shots, beers, and glasses of cheap wine, staying longer in the techie-boys' room didn't seem like a bad idea, either, and Georgia's bashful, eager come-ons and Arkansas's understanding looks that spoke volumes from half-hooded hazel eyes burning with poorly-contained passion and sly cunning seemed a much better pick-me-up. "I don't know who did it, but you were both there when I woke up." _And ran like a coward_, part of her snarled at herself. Fuck it, she was facing it now.

Ark just nodded, closing his eyes and swallowing, but Georgia cut off whatever he'd been about to say, throwing an arm around his roommate and pulling him close. "We're going to be fathers!" Georgia's voice was somewhere between a reverent whisper and excited whoop, knotting South's stomach in ways that she half-expected: it was too much, it was callously heartbreaking; that thoughtless optimism was just so typically Georgia.

"Usually, there's only one father, Georgia." Ark pinched the bridge of his nose, covering the better part of his expression.

"Oh, hang the biology. Either the kid's mine, in which case I add paternal vote to South: we both want you involved or you wouldn't be here -" but _she_ was here "- or it's the genetic recombination of two people I love most in this galaxy and I'd like to see anyone try and stop me from being there for the family I want us to have together." Georgia pushed Ark off the bench and towards the front of the room, arm still firmly wrapped about his shoulders as he moved to catch South, as well.

It would be easy to curl herself into Georgia's arms, to let his joy infect her and imagine that there was any way this could end well. But she couldn't read Ark. She couldn't melt if he wouldn't. Rather than risk weakness, she pushed back, maintaining her stance and space, ready to fire off the first insult that came to her mind... just as soon as her whirling brain could dredge up one that would make it all the way past tightened throat and dried lips.

"Georgia, I need a moment," Ark said before she could, backing out as well. As broad as Georgia was, he looked stretched thin between them, and South and Arkansas stood only a pace or two apart. "I need a few, really, but this calls for at least a chance to absorb the news before I talk with you both individually." The laughter in his voice as he admitted his weakness was self-targeted and closer to hysterics than South had ever heard from the normally tightly-wound, fiercely private Freelancer, but he couldn't regain composure fast enough to keep the sparks of rage from igniting once more.

"Whatever, Arkansas. You take all the time you need. It's not like this makes any difference or anything," she spat, turning on her heel. South could feel her fingernails digging into her palms, biceps tightening in anticipation of the punch she desperately wanted to throw. There was iron on her tongue again. There had to be some way to solve this, and a fight felt like progress. The problem was that only other potential enemy was the thing growing inside of her, and that sounded too much like her mother.

South knew she'd be a shitty mother. She'd had the best role model for the job.

She'd made it back out into the hallway before she heard her name come all too softly and gently from behind. She ignored it, hungry for the moment when Georgia reached for her, for when she could spin and punch as hard as she could, as fast as she could, her blow evading the hand he'd raised to block, following up with a cross, a leg sweep, raining down a pounding until someone hit back; why didn't he hit back or at least make more of an effort to restrain her? He was barely blocking or dodging her worst blows and Georgia might have been one of the weakest hand-to-hand fighters, but not even he was this useless in close-quarters and goddamnit, she was two months along at most and she was not some fragile china doll that it'd break her and the kid if he just threw one single hit and if she wanted someone to just be an understanding punching bag she had North and she couldn't do this. South didn't realize she'd been crying until Georgia wiped the tears from her eyes, holding her to his chest as he bled on the floor.

"Why didn't you go comfort him? He wouldn't hurt you for it." It wasn't giving in to let him pull her forehead into his shoulder, it was just a chance to rest her head and hide her expression. "You said you love him, after all."

"Yeah," Georgia agreed thoughtlessly, kissing her temple. "But he needs his space right now, and the other one I love needs to know that we're here for you."

"You don't need to speak for him." She really ought to get up. This hallway was currently quiet, but it was still a public area. "Ark has told me how he's going to take this."

Georgia rose slower, either from new injuries or an unwillingness to move from where they'd embraced. "Don't count him out yet, South; he does need time to himself to think, but he'll do the right thing."

She put her back against the wall, drawing her arms tight against herself. After the physical exertion, she just felt empty. Empty everywhere but her womb. "It was a mistake. It was a mistake to tell you, a mistake to let this happen, a mistake to sleep with you... fuck, I feel like I've done nothing but make mistakes since I challenged Virginia to that fight."

"And yet you were the first of us to crack the top six." Georgia took the insult in stride.

That was still safe to take pride in, though she felt the weightlessness in her stomach at the thought of how far she'd fall once the Director found out. "I'd be better without making these mistakes. Ark probably feels the same. What should he care about a drunken screw-up as long as he doesn't face the consequences? It just propels him up if I get knocked off the board." Georgia looked like he wanted to argue, but South overrode him. "It was one time. We were drunk out of our minds. Maybe it meant something to you, but that doesn't mean it was love for all of us. So, if you do love him, are you going to walk away with him?"

He kissed her hard, pressing her into the smooth, cold steel wall. "I don't want to choose, but you are not going to drive me away this way." She licked away the faint sheen of red salt he'd left liquid on her lips.

"You spend most of your time with him." Georgia probably spent more time with her brother, outside of missions, than he did with her.

"He's my roommate. I don't get that excuse with you. You caught my eye on the Pelican ride over here, and I've been trying to find the key to getting close without gettin' myself killed since then." Frizzy black curls still brushed against her forehead as Georgia nuzzled in. She could push him away anytime. She should. South shouldn't bend her head down to meet him halfway. "Wanna move in with us?"

No. Not until she could be sure, and she'd never be sure, especially not with Ark, especially when despite his embrace, despite his words, despite everything he did do to follow after her, even if he'd never openly said it before today - she didn't count whatever had been slurred two months ago in the dark - she was sure Georgia loved Ark more. He hadn't denied it. She was afraid to ask, afraid of both possible answers. "There wouldn't be room, even if I wanted anything to do with being there."

"South... it doesn't have to be in our room. And this love doesn't have stem from just the one time, you know." Pressed against the wall in a public hallway - that sounded like a worse idea than how they'd gotten into this, without even the excuse of being intoxicated. Yet with Georgia finally pushing back, offering her a challenge to rise to, South had to admit that there was a part of her that wanted it, no matter how stupid the impulse was. Her arms snaked up over broad shoulder-blades as he nuzzled against her ear, her palms pressing into his back. "Outside the project, my name's Phineas Jenkins. I thought you should know before I ask." With one last peck to her earlobe, he pulled back, waiting for her to respond in kind. Under other circumstances, she might have laughed - where had his family come up with something so old-fashioned and flashy and ridiculous as the man who carried that name? - but his expression stole her breath better than a kiss.

What he was asking for could just be what name to call out when he made her come, but she doubted that. Those brown eyes were too warm, those bruised lips too close to soft and serious instead of simple hunger.

"I haven't used anything but South Dakota since I joined the Project. Hated my full name, anyway." North was the only one she wanted any relation with, anyway, and even that could be touch and go, sometimes. Easier to be a Dakota, but better if she were South and North was her brother, instead of her just being North's twin.

And now Georgia was offering another identity, another tie, if she were reading him right."Wanna change it?"

"I have; it's South, Georgia." She didn't trust this thin thread, didn't trust her grip on it.

"Hmm," he responded distractedly, blithely ignoring the comma. "Makes things a little more confusing for what to call me out in the field, but I could learn to like it. And let's not forget that you'll be Momma, too, before too long." His hand was feather-light against her womb; for all the blustering energy and unfazed strength to him, the engineer could be delicate when he wanted to be. Yet this was the riposte that broke her, his killing return blow.

"The horribly shitty excuse for one, anyway." She'd wanted this, at least she'd dreamed about this touch, imagined it with something other than sheer terror and yet when it was real, it became too real. Georgia - sweet, goofy, absentminded brainiac Georgia - was in love with her and there was a little person growing inside her and it was easy enough just letting her brother down and why hadn't she told him too and what about Ark; he wouldn't hide in the unused classroom forever and the Director and the other agents... She'd probably have to kill Virginia if the senior Freelancer so much as made one comment, no matter how far South fell down the board.

"You're here." Georgia pulled her away from the wall, letting her sag against his shoulder a bit as she took a deep breath. "Didn't get much chance to know my father and Ark lost his whole family young, so we'll muddle through our shittiness and learn as we go. Long as we're here." He was heading back for the classroom entrance, and South leaned against him like she was the wounded animal.

"We'll break each other, let alone the kid," she predicted darkly. Anything to delay opening that door.

That wide, dark shoulder with its ridiculously pink pauldron moved upwards beneath hers. "We're tough to break. That's why we're here. 'Sides, we can heal." She'd tested his ability plenty here recently.

Ark looked up as the door swung inwards. He'd retreated to the furthest row, back facing but not touching the corner and feet planted firmly as he sat, even when his centre of balance had curled forward, inward - South banished the term "foetal position" from her mind before Arkansas had stood.

"You two have come to some arrangement, I trust." He tried to sound back in control, back to normal, back to something safe and sane and archly above her dramatics and Georgia's over-enthusiasm. South didn't quite buy it. Ark walked at a more staid pace than his roommate, but the tall, whip-lean man was unhurt and without a hormonal wreck hanging off his side, meaning they met about halfway. "Hopefully your plans don't include killing your comrades," he added, eyes taking inventory of Georgia's wounds.

"That depends on yours, I guess," South bit back, determined to meet any height of arch sarcasm the hacker might offer. She didn't quite pull away from the arm wrapped around her shoulders, but she at least straightened, no more willing to show weakness than Arkansas was.

"'Cause we were still kinda hopin' we could share them with you." Georgia reached out his free hand to his roommate, letting Ark be the first to make contact this time but openly welcoming it.

Arkansas hesitated, readjusting his stance as if to turn the movement into something more purposeful. "May I speak with you alone for a minute, Georgia?"

"Anything that needs saying might as well be said with all of us." Georgia shrugged into the role of defender too easily. "No need for secrets, here." He might not need them, but South was not so sure that she didn't.

"Perhaps not," Ark balanced his roommate's unrelenting optimism with the same poorly-cloaked tension she felt mirrored in his hazel eyes. "But allow me one more test. This... this just doesn't feel real yet."

"Get used to it, because it isn't going away that easy," South snapped. She had gone through only three pregnancy tests since the first one had come up positive, but she'd only had four left. "But go ahead and talk with him; you don't need my permission." She didn't run from Georgia this time, but didn't trail her hand along him as she walked away as he did to her. "I ought to go tell North, anyway," she added more softly once her back was turned.

She could imagine the look that passed between the two without seeing it. "South..." Ark knew better than to reach out for her. "If he doesn't know yet, would it be all right to wait just a little longer? I want a talk with you, too."

She shrugged, not turning around. "Hurry up and say it; I'm not sticking around. I just thought you should know."

"Just... I want to make sure we're all aware of the consequences," Ark swallowed at least a bite of his pride, as if South couldn't predict how fast the Director would kick her to the curb with a kid she was in no way prepared to raise if - _when_ \- he found out. "I don't want you to feel pressured."

"I can make my own decisions, thank you," she bit back. She shouldn't have stopped. She should have walked right out the door as soon as the desire to tell North _now _outweighed her need to know how her one-time lovers would react. She would, once it did. "If you don't want to get involved, it's not like that would be a surprise or anything."

"Ark," Georgia said, half question and half reproof. "We're gonna be here for you, South. I am, anyway," he added in rebellious undertone.

"I've got my brother 'there for' me, Georgia." South took the easy shot when Ark remained silent. "I don't need you to protect me."

"I just don't see either of us getting much paternity leave." Ark took a step back of his own. "In a top-secret project like this, every agent for himself, no contact with the outside world beyond our mission targets... My best mate just dropped the l-bomb right after the woman we both fancy decided to mention that there's a fifty percent chance that she's carrying the only blood relation I've had in fourteen years, and I can't decide whether I'm even capable of loving either of you, let alone the unborn innocent that part of me has had plans to kill from the moment I learned of its existence. Forgive me, I'm a little on edge right now," Arkansas finished with clenched teeth, dropping the dark hand he ran once more across his face as South dared to look back over her shoulder.

"I'm not asking you for sex, Ark," Georgia attempted to calm his roommate, mostly making thing worse. "I just wanna let you know you're not alone on this edge." South swore she could see the taller man's eye begin to twitch.

"You know that sick terror dropping your gut down a level of the ship or two that keeps your anger unfocused, even as it goads you to fight anything that'll come within range of your secondary firearm? I think that's the emotion he's talking about," South summarized for Arkansas. He nodded, hardly even attempting a condescending smile.

She turned her step towards him, pulling the taller male roughly into her shoulder. Ark just nodded mutely, wrapping an arm about her in an uncertain experimental embrace. "Remember, he's feeling it, too," she murmured before Georgia could jump in, as well.

"Our kid," Ark tested the phrase as if were as alien a concept as Sangehli coding, not raising his head when his roommate gripped their shoulders, offering a brief pleased, encouraging squeeze as Ark hovered a tentative right hand over her belly. South wasn't sure if she could take seven more months of gentleness. "Yours. Mine. Or Georgia's. Hell, Georgia's and mine, for what it's worth, but definitely yours, South. Ours." For just a moment, South thought that at least Arkansas would maintain enough sanity about their chances to pull the ice-picks out of her heart, but after a soft sigh into the crook of her collarbone, he continued with, "How the hell are we going to survive this one?"

_"We."_ Like he'd get involved in this mess, too.

"I was thinking we could take over the PA system," Georgia offered. "Maybe some streamers in the halls, but I figure that oughta wait until when we know whether it's a boy or girl. Or twins. Anecdotal evidence suggests that if there's one set o' twins in a family, others're more likely to follow."

South froze, burying any sign of surprised horror with automatic anger. She was willing to blame the tremble in her abdomen on the way Arkansas had settled his hand for the briefest of instants, only to pull back as if burnt when his roommate had begun to speak. "Georgia, I really didn't bring you this far down to find a quiet place to kill you, but so help me, if you keep talking..." Ark twitched against her shoulder, fighting something wordless and higher-pitched than had ever escaped his lips in mixed company while sober.

"I'm only saying," Georgia shrugged, blind to the twin reactions of his would-be lovers. "We could probably just get it out to everyone at once that way."

"Why the hell would that be a good thing?" South used the rising rage to her advantage, treating the acid climbing up her throat as choleric bile instead of frightened nausea and narrowing her eyes to keep the water from reflecting. She twitched Georgia away before the tremble in her shoulders could be assumed to be anything other than stifled murderous aggression.

Ark was the first to attempt recovery. He didn't quite back out of South's impromptu hold, their bodies quivering at the same frequency just long enough for the taller man's deliberate deep breaths to slow her own pounding heart, slightly. His palms flattened against her shoulders instead of anywhere softer, and Arkansas straightened from his awkward embrace to stand chest to chest, toe to toe with her, purposely seeking out her eyes to confirm that yes, of course he had his shit together; he was Agent Arkansas of Project Freelancer, why wouldn't he be calm and collected about something this goddamn terrifying? South was half-expecting Elite hinge-heads to burst in and try to fry them to atoms again any moment. It would be easier to bear than Ark's next words. "Actually, we probably should make some sort of public announcement. Get it out in the open where no one can make all of us conveniently disappear. Provided that you want to keep it, South."

She looked away, not paying attention to the argument Georgia started until it died a faltering halt under the weight of her silence. That... hadn't exactly been her plan, but neither was what Ark was implying. But still, was it fair to dump this on them and not expect to have to do any more with it? Of course not. Was it a mature, responsible, fully-reasoned course of logical action? Hell no, but she'd known it hadn't been from the beginning. That was why she was going to make a horrible mother from the word go: she was too impetuous to do this the right way and her kid - there was surely just one, even a terrible mother was supposed to have some maternal sixth sense or something that would tell her if it was twins, right? It should feel different, weird...er - would be better off with her out of the picture and despite how utterly unfit she was to be a parent, she was just good enough to want her kid to have a half-decent shot at life, as their kid.

"Fuck you and your public announcements." There'd been a part of her that had known from the very beginning that this would never work the way she'd wanted it to. It was like challenging Virginia: logic dictated that there was no way for her to win, but pride had demanded she try anyway. "If anyone goes down, it's gonna be me. As far as you two are concerned, you have no idea what happened when we were drunk, you knew nothing before the Director figured it out, and you're above punishment. It's not like it affects your ability to fight and follow orders."

"South... you have no idea how much that scares me," Georgia whispered. He didn't try to touch her, reaching for Ark instead. Despite their previous passive-aggressively heated words, Ark didn't shake him off. "Call me an idiot, but I want this. I want this family. I wanted a chance to pretend that you two might love me," he muttered with unwilling soppiness into Arkansas's shoulder.

"You're an idiot," Ark deadpanned. "There's no replacing what's been lost, so why bother pretending?"

"Can't replace what was never really there in the first place." South should know. Imagining that it had been there just made it hurt more. Who knew, maybe it had been, sort of, at one point, but her mother had been a great pretender, all leading up to an all-too-heart-rending reveal. They were doing Georgia a favour, being honest with him about their feelings, as confused as those might be. "Arkansas was born and raised by the unfeeling robotic overlords that sent him as a forerunner to their attempt at galactic domination."

"Wish I'd gotten the chance to meet 'em. 'M not tryin' to replace anyone, just expand the family. Let others know the stories of those who made you as you are, Ark. Gain North as a brother, too; doesn't mean that I never see Abe or Zeke or Gene again. I know they'd welcome you, and Momma would probably secretly favour you over Zeke's wife, since we're the first to give her grandkids, and while it's not the farm you grew up on an' nothin' fancy, any home I've got is yours, too -" Those big brown eyes were so painfully earnest, peeking over Arkansas's shoulder to dart between them, that she had to push past Ark's stiff arms to hold them both and shut Georgia up with a kiss. If her teeth clicked off his, she could tell herself that she meant to do that, delivering an unbalancing blow instead of an unbalanced one.

"Phineas," the name sounded awkward on her tongue. She needed more practice with it. "They aren't touching the baby without getting through me first. They aren't touching you without testing the kid. So don't fuck it up, okay?"

He flushed, brown skin darkening further as blood rushed to the bruised surface. She felt his arms tighten around Ark first, buying her millimeters of bittersweet breathing space, before Georgia pulled her into a bear-hug as well. "Love you," he repeated insensibly into the dovetail of their shoulders. "Love all o' you."

"I can at least insure that if we do get a new crew member, the proper clearance paperwork will be in order so that the Director will have less reason to wonder about who this new presence is on his ship, but how we keep him from discovering the pregnancy before our child's even born..." Ark sighed, nuzzling his cheek shyly against the mouth pressed into the crook of his neck. "I'm not sure if that will help hide anything, Georgia, even if it might confuse the source."

South raised an eyebrow. Georgia hadn't said anything that might suggest a solution to getting her out of the Director's notice. The whole idea of having to hide her achievements for the next seven months left her angry, but it was either risk her place on the leaderboard by staying uncharacteristically quiet or risk the child and her life as a Freelancer - if not her life, period - by drawing attention to her meteoric rises and blackest down-times as she usually did. It was easier being angry than trying to hold it all in. Other feelings could be burned away if she could focus on the fury.

Ark and Georgia both felt rather hot under the collar themselves, and not from anger. They were becoming somewhat unsteady in her hold, adjusting stances and shifting weights, quivering like uneven gears held too long without synchronizing their speeds. "Thought you said you weren't asking me for that, remember?" Ark's voice drifted into higher, embarrassed registers as he avoided direct eye contact with the two embracing him.

"Well, I'm not gonna beg you for it and I don't mean to pressure you into it, but Ark, if you wanted to, I wouldn't tell you no." Georgia pulled her in a little tighter, even as Ark squirmed. "Same for South."

"I think I'd best give you two another moment alone," the man in the middle attempted to back out gracefully. South released him, unwilling to be the one holding anyone back, though she felt Georgia pull Ark to face him before the taller man could break away entirely.

"I've had my time with her. I want time with both of you, but more than that, I want you both safe... comfortable... pleasured." Georgia's eyes had always been the darkest among the three of them, but right now, turned upwards as his mouth skimmed over her shoulder, then Ark's, at this moment she could quite easily understand what they were on about when they talked about impossible escape velocities. There were black holes in his pupils.

She settled one hand on Georgia's shoulder to steady herself, the other going to Arkansas's. She wouldn't grab them too tightly; she promised herself that small trace of poise, but she wanted to feel what had left Ark suddenly shy. "I think that's going to best happen with both of you here." She wouldn't allow herself to show anything resembling fear - these two didn't scare her nearly as much as a helpless half-formed foetus that depended on someone else to breathe for it - but South could be greedy. She'd brought them both here together at the same time, after all.

"That might not be a good idea." Ark once again attempted to bow out.

"You scared of what anyone else thinks?" She hadn't run because she was afraid of their disapproval. (She kept telling herself that.) "Or does this screw up your delicate morals?"

The taller man had to steel himself before he'd meet their eyes, and he still felt warm as he tried to abduct his shoulder. "The first time I... did something like that, I got the girl in trouble. And the boy... I may have inadvertently promised something I can't deliver."

"You make a habit of getting into threesomes?" South asked. They didn't talk much about their lives outside of the project. It was discouraged. But a family with maybe a kid and maybe a fiance waiting for one to get home, no matter whether or not they'd been thought through or wanted, seemed like a bit of a fucking big deal that might deserve an offhand mention to those one had slept with, a topic that might be pause for thought before falling into bed, no matter how drunk they were.

"I wasn't intending to do so." Arkansas was not meant for mumbling sheepishly, but not even he had enough nerve to face her down this time.

"Ark," Georgia breathed out, sounding much less betrayed than he should. His tone was closer to awe, maybe even a little guilt himself. Were they both hiding things from her? Georgia had adapted to her news very quickly. "We... took your cherry, didn't we?" There was a roll of hazel eyes behind the blush at Georgia's choice of terminology, but Ark gave a quick, mechanical nod. "If it makes it any better, you're the first guy I've slept with, too, that way, and if I say you're the only man I'll ever bed, don't take it as an insult on your first time."

"I honestly am not sure how much I remember of it to be insulted about," Ark admitted. "And perhaps that's for the best." He slowly placed one hand back on Georgia's shoulder, one on hers, still keeping them at a distance even as he squeezed. "Phineas, you're my best friend. Brigitta, if you're willing to have our child, I can't tell you how much I do want to hold that little one, and you. But I can't. I can't trust this enough to believe it. I can't trust myself."

"You've been doing your research." Georgia had noted her reaction as well as the name.

"But not enough of it," South added on quickly, neither willing to look away first nor reveal her discomfort. "Only my parents called me by that name. Those I love call me Bri, but only when we're in private." It wasn't melting before he did, South told herself. It was only rising to Ark's challenge. She had to set him straight before he got the wrong idea.

That look in his hazel eyes... It wasn't like when they'd been drunk. Arkansas was fully aware of what they were doing and still held back at least some of himself, uncomfortable with displays of conscious affection. He ran his tongue over his lips, afraid to strip away that last layer of his own anonymity after revealing theirs. The physical side left him blushing and squirming awkwardly, but it was this mental level, even when South phrased it as a method of attack and defence, as the only way she could handle it right now, that truly threatened to leave him speechless. "I... I'm... I'll leave you two to it; I need to go plan." He dropped his gaze, not quite managing to bolt once more.

"While you're 'planning,' remember that you've got a few more to plan for now; a couple of people who want you to 'plan' with them." It wasn't fair to tease him; Ark was the best out of the three of them at working out future consequences and actually giving enough of a damn to do something before things went wrong.

But she liked seeing that warmth in his face, the widened hazel eyes that confirmed that she wasn't the only one balancing want and fear as she pulled herself experimentally, exhibitionally, enjoyably against Georgia's body. His arms went around her and his head dropped to her throat and South thought that maybe she could melt here as his lips closed the "B-" against her jugular, blowing warm air against her neck on the vowel as he slid a little lower.

Ark watched them a bit longer, though he didn't reach back. His hands gripped the doorknob and frame much too tightly. "I want to use Fisk for our child's last name. We can hyphenate it, but I want that one first." He sounded a little too hoarse to be perfectly steady.

"Think we can do that." South was still in a half-distracted haze brought on by Georgia's mouth and fingers, but not enough to completely block the weight of what Ark was offering, what the very act of offering it had cost him. Still, for both his sake and her own, she didn't leave half-lidded eyes on the quickly retreating hacker longer than it took for Georgia to raise his head, as well, blinking back into curious focus at his roommate before she brought his attention back to her body.

"Did he just ask us to marry him?" Georgia wondered aloud, only a little muffled by the position of his face.

"Doesn't count unless he sticks around long enough for us to even think about answering." She brought his head even with hers for a moment, tongues meeting as their tangled knees hit the floor, cutting off any ideas Georgia might be getting on the subject. Georgia might be smart, but he'd always been far too optimistic for his own good. Or hers. Though perhaps this child would see the benefits of rose-tinted foolishness. "Besides, I joined the army to get away from society matrons with four last names, not become one."

"Still..." Georgia trailed off, once he could breathe again. His fingertips were delicate at the pulse point below her ear.

She put a finger to his lips. "Take it as time to think. And research." There was still too much that she didn't know about her lovers. Most couples got to know each other first, fell into bed, and then considered having children. Trust her to do it completely backwards with two men at once.

"Oh?" the engineer asked innocently enough, reaching for the hand-sized datapad he kept with his toolbelt. "Think we ought to return the favour?"

She slapped his hand away, removing the belt. "That is not how I do research, Phineas."

The way South preferred doing research on their mysterious Agent Ark Fisk's history was after a good physical struggle to stay on top and control her partner's moves, contently tired and collapsed against a dark, sweat-slicked shoulder. She let Georgia do most of the browsing, while she offered just enough critical commentary to keep him more or less on track and shoot down the more ridiculous baby-name suggestions. She didn't mind the side-stories too much, and while she was a bit reticent about her own history at first, it was easier to compare growing up with North to his brothers or her early days in the field to the Navy Engineering Corps than to view some of the links Georgia found on foetal development when they hit a brick wall on trying to narrow down colonial academies by their '42 rosters. South vaguely remembered the names of a few of the more prominent schools, but hadn't cared enough to know which ones were the most elite and which ones might have allowed scholarship students. "As much as I hate to get up, you know we could just go pound on the door and ask him," South suggested, closing the tab with an all-too-realistic model of the corpus lutem for when Georgia's free hand was brushing over the bare skin of her pelvis. It brought the metal back to her tongue when she thought she'd finally claimed a better taste.

"You willing to come with me, Bri?" He nestled her closer, even as she moved to sit up.

She shrugged, reaching for her abandoned clothing. Maybe the armour would have been better for confronting them, putting her on an even level with Georgia, giving her a stronger layer of defence than Ark had shown up with... at least physically. But it was easier to pull on the uniform afterwards. "He did ask for some alone time with you." Whatever the consequences of that time, she certainly wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall during that meeting. "You're really thinking about sex with him, as well?"

"Gonna need a few minutes at least before round two, so might as well let him start." He stretched and kissed her cheek, in no hurry to don the undersuit, let alone the bulky metal and polymer shell they hadn't quite scattered around the briefing room. She hadn't hesitated to toss or kick a few pieces out of their way during removal. "But with Ark, with you, it's not so much about sex. I like the feel of these," - his hand slipped into the shirt she'd just finished buttoning up, and she smacked it away before he offered more than a light caress - "the sight of that," - he nodded downwards towards her currently unzipped pants - "but more than that, I like the sounds you make while I'm down there, the way your arms tighten around me when I touch you just right, the way you rest your head on my shoulder so I can feel you smile against my neck in the afterglow. I love you, Bri. And even if you don't say it out loud, you tell me the same when you pull away from my shoulder while still wearing that smile so I can see it."

"You poor romantic sop." She fought the smile as well as she could. Less focus on his eyes. She had look at him and see a soldier that she'd humbled, made vulnerable, stripped of all physical and mental defences, and remember that that was the sort of weak soldier she was supposed to sneer at and belittle, ignoring the rush of pride that came from her ability to bring Georgia to this level, ignoring the rush of heat that came from how she'd "broken" him and how she wanted to keep at it, when he stood nude before her... She needed to know if Ark could do the same. Then maybe she could explore if he'd break for love as well.

First, she had to go assure herself that she wasn't broken.


	7. The Morning After

**(A/N) Warg, here. While waiting on our next big chapter, Spoony offers a sweet look down the road for a pair of two of our most colorful Freelancers and how their lives might turn out after the project, if all goes according to plan... Enjoy!**

* * *

**The Morning After**

**New Jersey**

**Written by SpoonyAzul**

* * *

_"In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed."_

-Khalil Gibran

* * *

When Jersey had woken up, the other side of the bed felt slightly cool. The redheaded soldier turned on her side and reached out with her metallic limb, only to feel nothing but the soft cotton sheets against the flat surface of the mattress. She opened her green eyes to find her boyfriend gone, the covers disturbed on his side. With a zombie-like groan, she propped herself up on both elbows. The desert sun's light seeped out of the blinds, just enough for to see the mess on the floor. Her clothes were mixed in with Kent's, leaving a trail out of the bedroom and into the hallway. The former Freelancer sat up completely when the sheets she'd cover herself with drifted off her, revealing her bare, pale chest. _Oh. Right. That happened,_ she thought, laughing to herself. She threw her legs over the bed with her feet on the soft, shaggy carpet. It was a night to remember to be sure and she had never slept so well.

She had yawned and stretched her arms when she heard a voice from the doorway. "Mornin', gorgeous." She looked up to find Kent, leaning his shoulders against the door's frame. He expertly wore that large grin on his face (and nothing else, Jersey noticed) upon seeing his girlfriend's naked form and disheveled red hair in the thin rays of sunlight, no doubt remembering last night's...fun time. "You're looking beautiful today."

She felt her face flush a bright pink. "Where did you go, Kent?" Jersey asked, rubbing her eyes while standing on her own feet. She had called him by his old nickname, but she didn't seem to care at the moment.

"Bathroom," he simply replied pointing his thumb towards the sound of running water, "I was getting ready to take a shower. Wanted to see if you were awake and wanted to join me." At mention of "join me," Jersey beamed a smirk, walking sauntering over to Kent and placing a hand beneath his chin.

"Heh, I take it this is Part Two from last night. Is that right, boombringer?"

Kent let out a deep chortle, pulling Jersey into a passionate kiss. "God, I love it when you call me that, you dirty girl." He slipped one hand through her soft auburn hair and the other down the small of her back until it slid further into the skin of her ass.

The girl shuddered, pulling his hand away. "Save it for the shower, boombringer," Jersey purred seductively, licking his bottom lip. She gave it a little nibble before walking down the hall, swaying her hips with each step. She could feel Kent's eyes following her movements, before he followed her into the shower stall. He had wrapped his arm around her waist, resting his head into her hair and basking in her scent. The boombringer purred into the thin skin between her shoulder blades as he ran his warm wet tongue on her skin. He felt her shudder and moan, knowing it was one of the few weak spots that could turn her docile as a kitten.

"You..." she said between moans, her face turning beet red, "You really can't wait, huh?" He led her into the shower stall with the hot water cascading down her body and propped her against the wall.

"Nope." he said with a smirk, leaning into another kiss.


	8. Suck, Squeeze, Bang, Blow

**(A/N) Warg here, with a quick exploration down the other leg of the Trousers of Time, experimenting with what might have happened if we'd gone with our original plans for "Escape Velocity" and someone had been a little quicker on the draw... Needless to say, implied spoilers abound. As for the title, it's the summarized explanation for how jet engines function (or any internal combustion, really) but Warg is a hopeless third-generation nerd and of course you already knew that. She just had to quote her dad (who may or not be an inspiration for Georgia's own nerdgasms) for Father's Day.**

**Thanks to LonelyLamppost for the review!**

* * *

**Suck, Squeeze, Bang, Blow**

**Agent Utah, Agent Georgia &amp; Agent South Dakota**

**Written by WargishBoromirFan**

* * *

**Agent Utah**

* * *

"_And who are you this morning?"_

_"No one," she replied._

_"A lie. I know you._"

\- George R.R. Martin, _A Dance of Dragons_

* * *

They'd assembled at the airlock as the little ship docked alongside the _Mother of Invention_, weapons in hand. There were no obvious weapons on the two-to-six-man transport, dwarfed by the massive cruiser, but they hadn't responded to hails beyond a preprogrammed white flag broadcast. There was no telling what was on there. Then the airlock began to cycle, and a man in green armor ducked into the doors as if the air couldn't come fast enough. Another shape remained hidden behind the locks, too still and reluctant to enter the _Mother_.

"Oh my god, Georgia!" The giant barreled past the assembled crowd awaiting the opening bay doors and picked up the first figure to come through. "We thought you were dead. South and The Director did, at least, but I knew you'd be back."

"Good to see you too, Utah," the newcomer patted his former roommate awkwardly on the back before attempting to pull away, flinching at exactly who had declared his demise. "But they won't be wrong if I can't breathe."

"Oh. Whoops, sorry," Utah apologized, setting the returning agent back down so that others could get a hold of him.

"Greg! What the hell did you do to survive? If we could figure out how you managed to break the carbon dioxide molecules, do you have any idea of the sorts of bombs we could make? Explosions in space! Actual flames in zero G!" Kent was jumping all over the shorter demo-man in green, barely letting Georgia get a chance to appreciate the pink state outline painted on the throwing arm of his suit until a mechanical hand pulled Kentucky down long enough for the orange-armored flesh one to clasp his shoulder.

"We missed you, as these guys make pretty obvious," Jersey told him.

"Me, too. I didn't get to do anything that excitin', Kent, just suspended animation until he could fish me out," Georgia said, indicating the mysterious figure left on the parked transport. "But we will get on that." The engineer gave her a grateful grin before doing a double-take at the hand wrapped snug around Kent's shoulders to hold the Boombringer back. "Your arm... you used my design? This is amazing work! Who'd you get to assemble it? The grenade launcher fit in all right? Did I pick a decent ring size? All the wiring isn't giving you trouble, is it?"

Jersey rolled her eyes ruefully; there was a reason Kent and Georgia had become fast friends, and the newly returned Freelancer hadn't been that badly shaken by his unexpected journey. "Yep, my mom, yes, yes, no..." she responded in automatic rapid-fire, then processed his second to last question.

"Well, I didn't design that washer on the third phalange, there," Georgia pointed out, hugging them both. "Tell me I didn't miss the ceremony?"

Jersey blushed, and Kent just grinned wider than thought physically possible. "Nope, that was my doing. Old grenade pins come in handy, and you shouldn't be able to miss this from the next galaxy!"

"Why the hell aren't you guys responding over the radio?" York called from further back as more Freelancers approached the airlock bay. "We were getting worried."

"I knew he'd be back," Utah insisted, then was forced out of the way.

"You two have five seconds to step away from the intruder," South hissed. Kent and Jersey stepped back, though not without a quick glare from Jersey. "Take off your helmet," the tall purple-armored woman insisted, turning her SMG on him.

"Hey, South," Georgia started awkwardly, pulling off the helmet and raising his hands over his head.

"You get out of here," South told the others packed into the bay. "I can handle this."

"Don't hurt him," Utah insisted, backing only as far as North and York. "We just got him back."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Utah," North told the giant, taking hold of a white pauldron as they backed off. "Clear," he announced over the radio. "Nothing to worry about."

"Let's go play some cards for a while in the rec room," York suggested.

"Not poker again?" Utah asked. North shuddered.

"Nope," York replied. "Not poker, or old maid, or anything that includes tricks or pairs or spoons. We need to provide North with a distraction, keep you from being a distraction, and since I'm a nice guy, I will provide that distraction instead of seeking out Carolina as Kent and Jersey run away."

"But my question is why aren't we asking West and Virginia to play?" Utah sounded perfectly innocent. "North and I could visit their room while you go let Carolina know that Georgia's back."

"Maybe later," North sighed and patted the giant as far up as he could reach on the white helmet. "You do have that stash of whiskey?" he asked York.

"We're going to need several, if Utah's joining us," York decided.

* * *

**Agent Georgia**

* * *

"_While it's true that many normal people would prefer not to date an engineer, most normal people harbor an intense desire to mate with them, thus producing engineer-like children who will have high-paying jobs long before losing their virginity."_

_\- Scott Adams_

* * *

South let him stand there with his helmet in the air for several heartbeats after the others had left, then pulled off her own helmet, throwing it towards a wall, lowering the gun, and wrapping her arms around him in one fluid movement. Georgia didn't even think to lower his arms until oxygen deprivation sent its insidious tremors through his fingertips and he remembered to breathe in through his nose to get something other than the taste of her to his lungs.

If this was how he went, it was by far a better way to die.

He fumbled with the seals to her armor, unable to get the fiddly little snap-locks to come loose to so much as a glove when he could usually assemble and disassemble such battlegear in his sleep. South yanked angrily at his breastplate, having little patience for the wait herself.

They pulled apart just long enough to trade curses about one another's armor; the airtight seals that had kept him alive were more trouble than they were worth. South tightened a fist over a stubborn switch and growled, yanking hard enough to send him staggering sideways with her grip, and he pulled her after as they overbalanced, and the two ended up on a tangled heap on the floor. "Love you," Georgia managed to exhale as South triumphantly loosened his shoulder strap.

"Shut up," South let out in an annoyed breath before reclaiming his mouth, hands at work on the other shoulder. He rolled, bringing her under him, and she didn't complain for the better leverage. "The hell were you doing?" punctuated his own progress at opening up the sides of her breastplate and dragging it over her head, bouncing the armor off his nose as she pulled up from the floor before he was quite ready.

"Pack wasn't working; somebody'd tampered with the fuel lines," he explained as she attempted to pull his entire armor set down his knees, only to bounce the breastplate off the codpiece. Georgia grunted at the unintentional pain that had caused before helping her with the rib-straps and yanking upward. Too much sensitivity down there right now.

"Why the fuck didn't you check it, brainiac? Why didn't you at least say something to Kent?" South would never add the "to me" out loud, but she'd switched to working off her own gloves and didn't raise her hips for Georgia to slide off lower parts of the armor.

He pulled the arm guards of his own suit once he'd gotten the connectors he could unhooked, kneeling instead of splayed atop her. "Figured I was dead, any way I went. Didn't want your pack sabotaged next." His fingertips felt cold and clumsy, bruised from their hasty fumblings at connector seals. "I swear I'd checked before takeoff, South. I didn't want to leave you. Didn't want to leave any of y'all, but you in particular."

South sat up as well, removing her gloves with tart efficiency. She was seated half-beneath his shins, hair a wildfire of platinum and thin purple streaks tossed in every direction, clothed only in a thin black bodysuit above the waist, making the armored crotch and legs of her remaining armor seem ludicrously huge on the woman beneath. Her ice-gray eyes had narrowed again, though her pupils were still dilated from the sudden influx of more drowning man than air. "So why would you be afraid that I'd be next?"

"Because of who else was on that ship with me," Georgia answered, thumbing in the direction of the airlock. With the other Freelancers gone, the second figure had ghosted forward, though he still refused to pass the threshold.

The scout helmet nodded silently in their direction, and a smaller figure flickered into being on his shoulder. "Uh, guys, not to be a prude - but you're a sick fucking animal; this is a public area and there are cameras and you're damned lucky that I am awesome and can cover for you, you horny nutcase - but don't you think we should be actually getting out of here before the Director starts to wonder what the hell's taking her so long? South was never exactly famed as a diplomat, you know."

South reflexively shot him the bird before grasping for her gun. Fortunately, she couldn't quite reach where it had skittered off in the mess from her current position, and Georgia wasn't letting her up just yet. "I want to get you all out of here." He pressed his lips to her cheek as earnestly as she'd first kissed him. He'd been aiming for her lips, but she'd turned away. "Alpha, our enhancement server here, isn't the only secret the Director's been working on. He's not the only one the Director's tryin' to break. I'm not the only one the Director'd be willing to kill to hide his secrets."

"So you teamed up with a traitor," South summarized, pushing Georgia off of her. Why did the codpiece have to fall off now, when he was going to get blueballed for certain? "Don't think for a minute that we'll ever forgive you for Massa and Mich," she spat at Arkansas.

"Me, neither." Ark didn't move, even as South snatched up her SMG and stood, leaving Georgia at her feet.

He raised a hand between them, as if he could halt her fire or bring back a fallen star. "Harper and Penn rebelled, South. I could have told you to expect that from the beginning, Ark, but fact remains: the Crimson Sun has set."

"Them, I expected. South's reaction, I rather expected," Ark summarized dryly. Still, there was a hint of something disbelievingly affectionate in the fallen rebel's arguments. Georgia, he hadn't expected. Few did.

"He's got no one left but those willing to give him a second chance in spite of his crimes," Georgia tried to explain. "I'm tryin' to show him this is better."

"You're succeeding in showing that you're an idiot. We can't trust him; no one can, or did you forget about the time he waltzed out of your room to spring a crazy Innie and go on a killing spree?" South pointedly ignored the eyebrow Ark had raised at her tirade, practically visible through the polarization.

"I am right here," the onetime Freelancer reproofed her mildly.

"And not giving me any good reason why I shouldn't shoot you where you stand." South tried to aim, despite the hand Georgia wrapped around her wrist.

"We came to get the rest of you out of here, somewhere safe," Georgia told her. He stood, positioning himself between South and her target, slowly bringing the muzzle of the SMG toward his still-armored feet. "I want to bring the whole team, but if all we can sneak out from under the Director's nose today is you, I'll call it a win."

South didn't fight him too hard, but her reluctance to lower the weapon was as palpable as the glare shooting straight through the man right in front of her to burn through Ark. "How exactly did you plan to get all the agents of Project Freelancer swept up from right under the Director's nose with that tiny little toaster of a ship? Armor off, Ark. I don't trust you not to be trying to blow up the ship or disabling life-support, and I will shoot through your lackeys if I have to."

"This guy has nothing," the glowing AI scoffed, even as Arkansas removed his helmet. "I designed most of the security systems on here; I can take 'em out without any help from these nerds."

"Alpha, retire. Keep working on the file recovery and system override, but leave the rest to me," Ark added the latter command under his breath, making South fight her weapon up once more.

"The hell are you and the little lightshow trying now, Arkansas?" Despite her insistence that she would shoot Georgia if forced to, her arms circled and weaved, coming upwards at angles as she tried to throw off his grip. Arkansas simply removed his gloves, remaining in the airlock.

"We need proof, South. Alpha's got a lot, but he didn't have access to everything, and this isn't going to be another lynching." Georgia risked a look over his shoulder, and Ark simply nodded. "Arkansas is the only one who can interface with the AI. Our tracking devices are still installed; as if I needed an excuse to want you out of armor," he mumbled, leaning over the submachine aimed vaguely at his unprotected stomach.

"I wanted to see you out of that armor," South admitted quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. "I wanted to feel your chest rise and fall, hear your heartbeat, taste your breath, just to know it was still you, really you." Ark cleared his throat pointedly, but how was a man supposed to resist a powerful woman in thin black under-armor telling him that? Georgia kept one hand guiding her trigger wrist as he sank once more into the dizzying suction of her lips. "But even if he saved you, that son of a bitch has another thing coming if he thinks I'm following him anywhere besides into hell." South took advantage of the lightheaded limp noodles her kiss reduced Georgia's limbs into, yanking sideways and unloading a wild burst. Ark ducked into cover behind the airlock's blast doors, Alpha blinking back online to swear every color he could turn.

Georgia tried to pull her down, but South was strong, flexible, and altogether done with what little patience she'd possessed for the traitor. Her finger remained tight on the trigger for three more quick-fire bursts, barely letting loose when her aim came closer to the man in front of her than the man she was intending to kill. "Goddamnit I am not wasting bullets on your ass; let go!" South unleashed a roundhouse to Georgia's unarmored abdomen, finally showing her willingness to fight back when less painful methods failed to shake him.

"You don't seem to have any trouble wasting them on the airlock," Arkansas observed, all cool calm as he pulled himself back to his feet, despite how quickly his heart had to be hammering. One could hardly see his hands shake, at least from this angle. "I warned you that she wouldn't cooperate, Georgia. It'd be a shame to lose your objective, but we can still at least leave with the information, try again when South might be more open to your line of reasoning." From the condescension barely kept out of Ark's conciliatory tone, he didn't believe that would be happening anytime soon. From the snarl South let loose with the last of her clip, maybe he was right. At least Ark wasn't shooting back. It could happen someday.

It wouldn't be today, though. Georgia was too winded to do much more than reach for South's ankle as she shot forward, stepping over him and into close-quarters range. It wasn't that Ark was bad at hand-to-hand fighting, precisely; he tended to last a little longer than his roommate in all-out team brawls when they'd both still been back in the project and he'd only improved since leaving with the monsters known as Penn and Harper, but South had been the brutal tigress launching into killing range that Georgia had admired from the very beginning. Without a weapon, Ark didn't stand a chance.

"Please, South," Georgia begged as his grasp tightened and then slipped from her boot. He wasn't even certain what he was asking for at that point. He wanted her to come with them. He wanted Ark to live. He wanted to go back to that first plane ride when they were just a bunch of fresh-faced newbies thrown together on a Pelican with code names and ideals and more confidence than sense and maybe make less of a fool of himself, suggesting that their children might be the eight-foot-tall super-soldiers that they couldn't become without the risk of dying, because while they'd all have to die someday, while he'd been at peace with that when he'd first joined Project Freelancer, now... Now was not a good day. It would never be a good day to watch South or Ark go first. It would never be a good day to think that they might kill each other, much less watch them do so.

South barely had to readjust her weight to kick back hard at Georgia's unprotected face.

* * *

**Agent South Dakota**

* * *

"_Now there's a hell of a story." _

\- Matt Kowalski, _Gravity_

* * *

"And you are certain the server is undamaged?" The Director asked, placing the chip delicately back into its slot in the enhancement support system.

South shrugged irritably. "The hell should I know? I didn't shoot through its central hole, stomp it underfoot, or set it on fire, but the rest is up to you and whatever pet eggheads you've got playing with it."

"We do appreciate your efforts in securing UNSC property. Your service will not go unnoticed or forgotten, Agent South Dakota," the Counselor assured her.

South twitched, uncomfortably feckless and unmoved by the would-be praise. Her mind kept drifting back to how Georgia had been rewarded, to that new master mechanic whose limbs had painted the halls, conveniently close to Penn's cell when the monster had escaped and knocked out Utah and Jersey. "As long as you know what I can do if you give me the right motivations, sirs."

"We will be sure to move your name up the list, agent. Especially as we may now begin to import new A.I.," the Counselor spoke as if hinting at a hidden cache of birthday gifts, well before her twin would ever know of them. The Director had not looked up from his examination of the returned program.

"Sounds good," South said, trying to dredge up just a sliver of enthusiasm to layer beneath her indifference. They hadn't asked what had been left on the little ship when it had been set adrift, happy to have the A.I. and two helmets of varying shades of green and pink. South figured it would be best if no one knew. She had to convince herself that she didn't want to know, after all. It was the only way to fulfill his wish to keep her safe.


End file.
